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I hated driving the cage.

Every time I slid behind the wheel of this truck instead of straddling my bike, I felt like I was missing a part of myself. Like my lungs didn’t fill right. My knuckles were too still. I needed the roar. The wind. The sting of gravel kicking up behind me.

But my bike was laid up at the garage, clutch issue I’d been ignoring too long, and tonight, I had to get to The Pit .

The underground gambling club wasn’t just club business, it was my business. Devil and Mystic gave me the keys, and I kept that place running smooth. No bullshit. No screw ups. No outsiders. I didn’t fuck around with responsibilities, not when the club was counting on me.

The road curved ahead, a long stretch of Carolina blacktop lined with trees heavy with moss, branches bowing low like they were trying to keep secrets. My headlights cut through the dark just enough to show me the familiar world I’d grown up in, muddy, quiet, full of ghosts.

That’s when I saw it.

A car. Pulled off onto the shoulder. Hood up. Hazard lights flashing like they were begging someone to stop.

Normally, I wouldn’t.

People break down every damn day. Not my problem.

But something made my foot ease off the gas. Maybe it was the way the woman stood—rigid, protective—like a lioness ready to rip someone apart with her bare hands even though her body looked like it hadn’t rested in days. Maybe it was the kids.

Yeah. Two of them. One girl, small, clinging to the woman’s side, and a boy a little older, standing between her and the road like he thought he was tough enough to take on the world.

I slowed to a stop behind them, grumbling as I threw the truck into park and grabbed my flashlight from the dash.

“Dammit,” I muttered. “Better not be some setup.”

I stepped out, the gravel crunching under my boots, the weight of my leather cut creaking as I moved. The woman turned slowly, her hair catching in the breeze, dark, long, wild like she hadn’t had time to care. Her eyes locked on mine.

And just like that, the world shifted.

She was beautiful.

Not the polished kind. No makeup. No tight clothes or flashy smile. Just real . She was wearing a real pretty sundress that seemed so right on her. There was something in the way she held herself—guarded, wary—but not weak.

Her face was soft but striking. High cheekbones. Full lips, pressed tight like she’d been biting them all day. Big eyes. Gold-flecked hazel, maybe. Hard to tell in the low light, but they were sharp. Watching everything.

She didn’t speak.

Neither did I.

I looked at the car instead, walked to the front and peeked under the hood. Radiator hose was busted. Battery light was on. Engine was toast. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

“You got someone comin’?” I asked without looking at her.

Silence.

I straightened, turned around. Her hand was on the girl’s head, shielding her. The boy stepped closer to her again. I saw it then—the duffel bags stuffed in the backseat, one of them barely zipped. A teddy bear wedged between a pillow and a box of cereal.

She wasn’t just broken down.

She was on the run.

“No,” she finally said softly. “No one’s coming.”

I nodded slowly, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

“You trustin’ anybody at all tonight?” I asked.

She didn’t flinch. Just watched me.

“Depends who’s asking.”

I gave her the truth. “Name’s Thunder. I run a place nearby. Not far. You and the kids don’t need to be out here all alone. I ain’t askin’ questions. I’m just offerin’ a way off this road.”

She hesitated. The boy leaned in and whispered something in her ear, and whatever it was, it made her eyes narrow like she was weighing her last options.

“Why would you help a stranger?” she asked.

“Don’t usually,” I said. “But I ain’t leavin’ two kids on the side of the road. Ain’t in me.”

Still, she didn’t move. That stubborn chin tipped up just a notch.

“You can ride in the front with me,” I added. “Kids’ll be in the back where you can see ‘em. I drive slow. You say stop, I stop. You want out, I’ll pull over.”

Her throat worked, and she looked like she was fighting herself. Then—

“Okay.”

Just that. One word. But it was everything.

I opened the passenger door, and as she helped the kids in, I saw her hand tremble for the first time.

Whoever she was, whatever she was running from—it scared her bad.

And now I was caught up in it.

Shit.

I didn’t know it yet, but picking her up would change everything.

And maybe cost me everything, too.